


Upset

by Bubbly_Kandy



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Child Abuse, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I might make a sequel, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Touch-Starved, Trans Jeremy Heere, Why Did I Write This?, deadnaming, this was a lot, yet.....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:47:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13002156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbly_Kandy/pseuds/Bubbly_Kandy
Summary: Jeremy is cracking. He can't take this much longer.





	Upset

Jeremy is upset.

Really, he should expect being  _ upset  _ by now,  _ upset  _ is nothing,  _ upset  _ is over-reacting,  _ upset  _ brings forward sharp words and hands from his mother, scolds of being disrespectful and  _ Joanna, I raised you better than this.  _

He’s  _ not  _ Joanna. Joanna died, two years ago, and Jeremy is alive, stuck in stupid Joanna’s body with stupid long hair and stupid periods and stupid, stupid, _ stupid. _

Being  _ upset  _ shouldn’t be so hard on him. Yet, it is, as it’s shown when Jeremy gets annoyed at his dad for ruffling his hair, shown when he screams at his mom when she tells him the words  _ you need to stop playing with Michael,  _ and his breathing gets tight and painful when his own aunt hit him over the head with her palm in public, the wound still fresh and festering inside of Jeremy, even now, six years later. 

Then Jeremy’s mom leaves in the middle of the night, not letting Jeremy say goodbye even though she  _ knows  _ how important that is to him, leaving Jeremy’s father to crumple like old bricks, closing himself off and leaving Jeremy alone. 

Jeremy cuts his hair then, and cries, sinking to the floor with his hand gripping a cut-off chunk of hair, missing the scolding and anger from his mother that he knows would be there if she was there, but she isn’t, and Jeremy wants her  _ back,  _ despite the verbal beating he knows he would get from her.

Jeremy clings to Michael for support, but when Michael breaks his ankle and can’t  _ do  _ anything for months Jeremy is terrified that he’s  _ annoying  _ Michael, what with his constant calls and shitty jokes and wide smiles and fake, fake, fake. It must be real to Michael’s family, though, because Michael’s moms both tell Jeremy again and again and again and  _ again  _ that they are so proud of Jeremy for sticking by Michael even when no one else did, and Jeremy smiles and chokes back tears as memories of listening to Jasmine break down in the kitchen, the strongest woman that Jeremy knows crying because her son is a shell of his former self rush in, and he squashes down that pain to the painful, gaping hole in his chest that grows and grows until Jeremy thinks he might explode.

His explosions are dampened when Michael smiles at a joke, even if its a dumb one that Jeremy had told before multiple times, but it softens and heals Jeremy’s hurt, even only a little, because he could make Michael  _ laugh  _ again and it was wonderful, because Jeremy was there when Michael would sob when something barely touched him, or when Michael had stared forward, unblinkingly, the crutches in the corner forgotten, the cast on Michael’s foot bearing signatures that weren’t sincere except for Jeremy’s.  

Jeremy had been Michael’s crutch for years, his wound ignored and left alone because Michael needed more support, Michael was more injured than him, Michael was more  _ important  _ than him, and Jeremy accepts that, he’s more than willing to accept it, because over the years Jeremy’s thoughts turned against him, cruelly whispering things that scare Jeremy, things like death and suicide and ending it all, going to the bathroom and getting a razor and cutting. 

But Jeremy never acts on those desires, because then Michael texts him with a sweetly-said ‘ _ hey :)’ _ and Jeremy replies back  _ ‘hey’  _ because he needs to talk to Michael, they both need each other, but only one of them knows just  _ how  _ much they both need each other.

Michael isn’t the same, still. Jeremy has him listen to a song and when Jeremy looks at him, wanting his friend to be excited over the same things again, wanting Michael to listen to the song with him over and over again until Michael is swaying and humming the words, just like they could when they were little. But Jeremy only sees Michael looking blankly at the screen, no emotion in his eyes being illuminated by the blue light, and Jeremy deflates, turning away and swallowing the hard ball of emotions in his throat before looking back at Michael, who tries to lamely compliment the song, but Jeremy just waves him off and forces a mock smile on his face, leaning over and looking vine videos up because Michael always smiles at those. 

There are times that Jeremy and Michael spend full days just sitting on opposite sides of the couch, Jeremy looking down at his hands and Michael doing the same thing, neither of them knowing what to say except for ‘bye’ when Jeremy leaves.

It isn’t until Michael hugs him for the first time in a year Jeremy realizes how touch-starved he is for Michael.

Jeremy wants them to be like they were in eighth grade, before Michael broke his ankle, back when they were giggling at each others jokes and Michael would smile for no reason and they would be constantly together, like brothers. But now, when Jeremy tries to remember that, he can’t make out details. Only blurry snatches of a red sweatshirt-clad arm wrapped around a blue one in a silly country dance they made up, Michael letting Jeremy put on his glasses and trip into things before the two boys break out laughing.

But now, when Jeremy brings up those memories, they only add to the ache in Jeremy’s chest, the yawning chasm of  _ hurt  _ that Jeremy tries so hard, too hard to hide. 

The only snippet Michael gets of how Jeremy is feeling is when Jeremy snaps one day, grabbing Michael’s shoulders and getting in his face, tears streaming down Jeremy’s cheeks and blotting both of their clothes, yelling  _ “feel something! Laugh, cry, anything, I don’t care! Just  _ **_feel_ ** _ something!” _ Jeremy gasps, trying hard to breathe as he shakes Michael, begging  _ “Please, I just want you to feel something,”  _ before wailing and letting go of Michael, wrapping his arms around his midsection and curling forward, Jeremy feeling too much and Michael feeling too little.

Michael stared at the sobbing mess in front of him, regret and anger and remorse swirling together and he almost helps Jeremy because  _ damn it,  _ this was his best friend and the guy who had been helping him out despite his mom leaving, having to practically fend for himself at home,  _ and  _ having to take care of his dad like a demented version of opposite day.

Before Michael can say anything, Jeremy keens, and runs from the room, thumping down the stairs and the door banging closed. Michael cries out  _ “wait!”  _ but it’s too late, Jeremy is gone and the dumb phantom pain from Michael’s ankle makes an entrance, and he has to sit down on his couch. He stares forward and thinks.

Jeremy’s sobs lessen over the course of running a mile, and he opens the door quietly, knowing that his dad is in there, sleeping. He sneaks past, down to his room, and sinks down the wall, sobs leaving him again as the scab in his chest is ripped open, bleeding out as his wails continue for hours.

Jeremiah Heere is breaking. He is shattering. He wants it to stop.

He wants to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tired


End file.
